


Sleeping Beauty with a Crest

by sodasouffle (mellowie)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Attempt at Humor, Byleth is the Sleeping Beauty whose curse is only broken with a true love's kiss, Conversations, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Retellings, Linhardt is a scholar with his nose dived deep into Crest books, Post-Time Skip, Sleeping Beauty Elements, True Love, True Love's Kiss, but no one knows who Byleth's true love is..., light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24926320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowie/pseuds/sodasouffle
Summary: “Say what you will,” Caspar throws his hands up in resignation. “But hundreds of folks have tried, right? And none of them had come close to beating Jeralt. At this rate, the poor maiden may be doomed to never open her eyes again.” He crosses his arms, a deep frown settling on his once cheery face. “Is there anyone out there who can truly break the curse? Does someone like that even exist?”Dorothea follows after Caspar, knitting her brows and tilting her head. She considers the circumstance for a moment. “Frankly... I‘m not so sure,” she sighs after all. Clasping her hands on the table, an amiable smile forms on her lips as she smoothly turns to her right. “What do you think, Lin?”Linhardt looks up from his book for the first time since the start of the conversation.(a fairy tale AU featuring Linhartd as the usual Crest-loving dummy and Byleth as the Sleeping Beauty with a prominent Crest)
Relationships: Linhardt von Hevring/My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 42





	Sleeping Beauty with a Crest

**Author's Note:**

> sleeping beauty is practically made for linhardt !! i tried to give my own spin on it even though this could go so many ways haha

“And that’s why the folks of Fódlan are in a pickle,” Sylvain ends his tale with a flourish. “You got to admit. It may sound enticing, but it’s not that easy of a task.”

“Oh, but to be a beautiful damsel cursed into eternal slumber, only to be woken by a true love’s kiss?” Dorothea leans her cheek against her hand, sighing dreamily. “Sounds like one of the most romantic operas I’ve performed in.” 

“You’re forgetting the most important part, Dorothea. Not just that, she’s the daughter of the one and only Captain Jeralt!” Caspar clenches his fists. “You know, _the_ Captain Jeralt of the Knights of Seiros! _How incredible is that!?_ ”

He yells with his fists shaking from excitement. In the peak hours of noon, nearby patrons shoot miffed looks in their direction. Dorothea grows red and covers the side of her face, embarrassed. Sylvain, not paying the others any mind, is rather pleased at the two’s engagement in the topic. He continues to regale them with details.

“Sure, Jeralt’s impressive, but here’s the catch,” Sylvain holds up a finger and grins. “Before you can even get to the damsel, there’s a single condition you’d have to meet. And that is, to challenge Jeralt to a duel. If you win, you will be able to give her the kiss of your desires. But if you lose, well, there goes your chance at a fairytale romance. True love or not, Jeralt is not going to let someone who can’t fight a battle take his daughter’s hand.”

Sylvain stretches his brawny arms, leaning back in his seat. “That being said, all your valiant efforts of beating the great and mighty Jeralt will amount to nothing if you’re not her true love anyway.”

“That will certainly be most unfortunate. But tell me, when you mentioned the kiss…” Dorothea twirls a strand of her brown hair. “Can it be a sweet kiss on the lips? Or perhaps a swift one on the cheek? Or even...”

“What? Of course just a peck on the hand will do. That’s where most people would go for,” Caspar gives her a befuddled look. “Wouldn’t they?”

“Oh, Caspar,” Dorothea waves him off. “Let a lady have her fantasies, will you?”

“Best not to question it,” Sylvain chuckles. “Though I must add, there are incentives for the less romantic as well. Jeralt has given his word. If you manage to wake his precious daughter up, you will be allowed to join the top ranks of the Knights without having to work your way up.”

“Seriously? That’s every squire’s dream! But if it were me, I don’t think I’d feel comfortable earning my spot with the Knights that way,” Caspar admits sheepishly. “...Still, I can’t turn down the chance to fight the legendary Captain Jeralt either!” He pumps his fists, throwing pretend punches in the bustling air. “It’d be the true test of my ultimate strength, and I can finally prove the results of my training!”

“Quit being such a musclehead,” Dorothea purses her lips. “Getting the once-in-a-lifetime chance of marrying the most gorgeous woman in all of Fódlan is nothing compared to power! I bet Jeralt would have plenty of fortunes in store too, don’t you think?” She giggles at the prospect. “What better reward is there?”

“I agree with all my ardent and slightly traumatised heart, Dorothea,” Sylvain nods, placing a serious hand on his chest for emphasis. “Mostly at the ‘gorgeous woman’ part,” he adds.

“Say what you will,” Caspar throws his hands up in resignation. “But hundreds of folks have tried, right? And none of them had come close to beating Jeralt. At this rate, the poor maiden may be doomed to never open her eyes again.” He crosses his arms, a deep frown settling on his once cheery face. “Is there anyone out there who can truly break the curse? Does someone like that even exist?”

Dorothea follows after Caspar, knitting her brows and tilting her head. She considers the circumstance for a moment. “Frankly... I‘m not so sure,” she sighs after all. Clasping her hands on the table, an amiable smile forms on her lips as she smoothly turns to her right. “What do you think, Lin?”

Linhardt looks up from his book for the first time since the start of the conversation.

Caspar brightens upon seeing his close friend while Sylvain looks intrigued by Dorothea’s strategy. They eye Linhardt as though he had been an ace hidden up their sleeves. Linhardt searches their keen expressions in return, looking fairly puzzled on his own. When he soon arrives at a well-meaning conclusion, he begins to part his lips. Dorothea, Sylvain and Caspar lean forward at once, eager to hear him weigh his unconventional wisdom in the matter. 

“Oh, you’re asking me for my opinion?” Linhardt says as he blinks. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening. What were you talking about again?”

Caspar doubles over the table, groaning as though he had been punched in the gut. “Linhardt! I thought you would catch some of the stuff we were saying since you’re sitting so close to us!”

“Well, that might seem like the case, but I’m far too immersed into this chapter of _The Official Records of Rare Crests_ to notice,” Linhardt holds up the thick leather-bound book, hand-engraved as proof. “It’s providing much useful insights to my current research on Crestology. I’ll have to start taking notes.”

“All right, that’s fine and all. But surely you’ve heard a bit about the dazzling lady in peril?” Dorothea sounds hopeful.

“If you’re referring to the tale of the maiden under a sleeping curse, yes, I have. It’s been the talk of the town lately. I must admit, the aforementioned spell does spark my interest,” Linhardt nods knowingly. “I too wish I could take naps forever. But the more I spare it a thought, the more eternal slumber sounds like a nightmare than a dream. Can you imagine missing out on countless opportunities to study Crests, or worse, not being there in person to witness any potential breakthrough in research?”

Just talking about it is frightening enough to make Linhardt shudder. He grips the back of his ancient book, thankful for its presence. “That being said…” His fingers fiddle with the edges of the page as he contemplates. “My worst fears are currently the maiden’s reality. I do wonder how she must be withstanding the burden of such a dreadful curse...”

“Well, who knows? You might just be the dashing knight in shining armour that she needs,” Dorothea winks. “Why not put that peculiar mind of yours to use and come up with a way to save her? Be the hero of the day for once, the hero that everyone didn’t know they needed. I know you have something special within you, Lin. I’ve always believed you have.”

Linhardt goes quiet, mulling over her words. He appears to be lending her suggestion a second thought. But he has also yet to set his book down from his hands. After a long drawn pause, he finally offers his input, short and simple. “Not interested.”

Having spoken, his eyes return to the pages of his book, written by the hands of astute minds, and remain glued there.

“What? What do you mean _‘not interested’?_ ” Dorothea cries, completely nonplussed that her sweet and deliberate words had little to no effect on the scholar. “Why not?”

“Sylvain had said so himself. If I’m not the lady’s true love, most of my efforts will be for naught. I’d just end up helping someone reap the rewards without them doing the work. It’s an incredible fool’s errand, one that I’m disinclined to go out of my way to partake in,” Linhardt lets out a sigh. “No matter how you approach this, I’m better off not getting myself involved.”

“Oh, come on, Lin-!” Irked by his indifference, Dorothea gets ready to stand up when Caspar sets a firm hand on her shoulder. 

“Forget it, Dorothea,” he shakes his head. “All Linhardt cares about are Crests, books about Crests, and naps where he probably dreams about Crests. At this instance, there’s nothing more we can do to gain even the slightest of attention from him. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“That’s a little presumptuous,” Linhardt speaks up without removing his gaze from the page. “I do dabble in fishing from time to time.”

 _See? Just let it go,_ Caspar shrugs, inciting a deep sigh from Dorothea. She resorts to grumbling under her breath and aggressively stirring her tea, which at this point has grown as tepid as Linhardt’s interest in the subject matter. All the while, Sylvain has been sitting idly by, propping up his chin with his elbow, listening to their little exchange.

With the discourse now coming to a stalemate, Sylvain turns his gaze over to the golden Crest embroidered on the cover of Linhardt’s book. He doesn’t particularly recognise the Crest’s origins or anything like that, but the image does make an idea spring forth to mind. A sly smile spreads across his lips.

“Now that you mention it,” Sylvain interposes the conversation with the calm of a still sea. “A charming bird perched on a high branch once told me something quite intriguing. Now, I can’t say for certain how true it is…” His voice lowers for dramatic effect. “...but I heard that the damsel in question bears a very unique Crest indeed.”

Sylvain drawls the word _Crest_ with purpose. From behind his book, Linhartd’s head perks up, eyebrows raised high. As Sylvain had expected. Just a mere hint of his favourite subject would grab his rapt interest. Like dangling candy in front of a child.

“A unique Crest, you say?” The book in his hands lowers as its owner seems to momentarily forget about its existence. “...Go on.”

“Oh, yes,” Sylvain coats every word with honey from a pot. “And not just any special kind of Crest you’d find in a dusty old book. As a matter of fact… It could very well be the Crest of Flames itself.”

“Wait a second, you mean _the_ Crest of Flames?” Caspar gawks at Sylvain. “The legendary Crest that hasn’t been seen in several hundred years?”

“In more than a thousand, to give a more accurate estimate,” Linhardt says. Sylvain watches with a slight satisfaction as the lethargy lifts from his eyes, replaced by a curious glint of light. The maiden who used to be an ordinary sleeping beauty now, to Linhardt, is a sleeping beauty with a Crest.

“But you should probably take it with a grain of salt. It’s all plain old hearsay anyway,” Sylvain raises his cup of Bergamot tea to his lips and smiles. “Unless you want to check it out for yourself, that is.”

“You’re right. There’s a high possibility that the Crest of Flames is a mere embellishment to the tale… But why do I get the strangest feeling that there’s more to the truth?” Linhardt mumbles, more to himself than the rest. The cogs of his mind can almost be seen creaking and turning as he attempts to fill in the blanks. “Do you know of the maiden’s name?” He asks a question not directed to anyone in particular.

“Oh, what’s this? Getting a little interested, are you?” Dorothea teases and pokes his arm, which plainly does not invoke any desired response from Linhardt’s collected demeanour.

Caspar glances up at the ceiling as he strokes his chin. “For some reason, Captain Jeralt isn’t open to divulging much of her true identity… But I believe he’d mentioned that her name is Byleth.”

Sylvain grins. “I find it a pretty name if you ask me,” he says with a casual air, but Linhardt is too deep in thought to hear his remark.

“Byleth…” Linhardt repeats the name under his breath. His eyes widen as his mind gathers a new meaning from it. Like a switch that had been flicked, Linhardt snaps the book shut and flips it face-down on the table.

“I’ll do it,” his tone is firm and his eyes unyielding. “Break the curse on Byleth, I mean. No matter what it takes.”

Linhardt’s resolve in stark contrast to his nonchalance a few minutes ago propels the atmosphere into a great buzz. Dorothea brings her hands to her lips, gasping in delight. Sylvain pretends to take a bow, ready to claim credit for his part in the persuasion. Only Caspar doesn’t look excited to join in with their glee.

“Woah, Linhardt! Are you hearing yourself right now? I know we’ve been bugging you all this time, but I thought it was for jokes! Now that you’re serious, I’m not sure how to feel...” Caspar grows concerned over the implications. “You will have to fight Captain Jeralt in a duel,” he warns, “Isn’t that the one thing you’d want to avoid at all costs?” 

“That would be quite the bummer indeed. I don’t deal well with blood of any kind,” Linhardt turns his head from side to side in disappointment. “Guess I’ll have to make do without violence,” he shrugs.

“I suppose if that’s what works best for you, but is a method like that possible?” Caspar wonders out loud.

“Aww, that’s so romantic!” Dorothea gushes, her sentimental side taking over. “What if you might actually be her one true love? _Ooo_ , imagine our dear Lin, marrying into knighthood…”

“I’m afraid knighthood doesn’t suit someone like me very much,” Linhardt says, rather apologetically. “And I can’t agree to the marriage either as I’ve already pledged my heart to someone else. But if Byleth is who I believe she is, I might need to reconsider that right away…”

“ _Ha ha!_ I knew you weren’t the kind to… Wait… What?”

Caspar’s laughter is cut short by a dawning realization. Time seems to grind to a halt. The tavern falls into a deafening silence.

“Linhardt, did you just... What did you just say?” Caspar gape at him so wide his jaw looks like it can hit the floor.

“What was it again? Knighthood? Oh, right, I have an unfortunate affair with blood that makes me ill when I happen to see or go near it. I’d assumed you already knew that from our schooling years, though?”

“No, no, after that!” Dorothea exclaims, shaking him vigorously by the shoulders with a strength that he didn’t know she possesses.

“Ah, that my heart belongs to someone? That I did. But by the looks on your face… did I not?”

Their astonished expressions say it all. The most inconceivable notion to ever occur, had just occurred.

“I… I never knew…” Caspar is frozen to stone, grappling for the words to express his current state of mind. “...that Linhartd…. Linhardt would...”

“Linhartd is going to get a gal before me!” Dorothea cries, burying her face into her hands. “Don’t forget me,” Sylvain mutters, his expression sombre. Linhardt surveys their reactions with great amusement.

“What’s with the melodrama? Is it so hard to believe that I’m capable of having feelings for someone?” Linhartd furrows his brow, seemingly hurt, but the curve at the corner of his lips shows him taking playful offense. “You wound me, my friends.”

A single thought drops into her mind like a pin and Dorothea lights up. “No, wait! It might sound implausible, but that’s exactly why we have to know more! Lin, it’s imperative that you spill the tea at once!” She bangs her fist on the table, nearly knocking over her own literal cup of tea. “Come! Don’t leave a single thing out. How did you two meet? What was it about her that moved your heart? Why isn’t she with you now?”

“Slow down, Dorothea, you sound like you need to catch your breath. But if you insist on knowing…” Linhardt seems surprisingly willing to entertain her. “Hmm, at which point in time should I start? I suppose our first meeting dates back five years ago.”

“ _Uh-huh_ , five years? That’s pretty far back. And then?” Dorothea prompts, eager for more material to work with. 

“And then as I was made to part with her, I was left with a deep regret that still haunts me to this day,” he muses, suddenly turning poignant and skipping right to the end. “All these years of rigorous study and discovery, but I’ve never got to learn the one thing I wish to know most. Her name.”

“Oh my, is that true? That’s a terrible pity. I’m sorry, Lin… But hey, are you trying to play the fool here? You’re clearly missing the in-between!” Dorothea points out. Her inner gossiper that is once unleashed, is difficult to quell.

“I was getting to that,” Linhardt patiently replies. “The best of things usually come last. So, as I was saying, in regards to the rest of my memories I share with her…” he continues. Dorothea waits with bated breath, urging him to finish. Linhardt looks up and meets her eyes. 

“...They are for me to relive in my dreams,” he ends with a subtle smile.

Leaving Dorothea speechless and peeved, Linhardt turns and slips his book into the satchel around his waist. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he says as he rises from the table. “There’s somewhere important I need to be.”

“Huh? Wait, don’t tell me you’re going to face Captain Jeralt right now?” Caspar stops him, unable to contain his utter disbelief. “Shouldn’t you make preparations first? Your weapon of choice, your strategy or...”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that. It would be foolish of me to ignore those essentials. I’ll consider them one by one…” Linhardt lets out a long-suppressed yawn, “...After I’m done with my nap.”

“You're taking a nap? Isn’t it past mid-noon?” Sylvain stares.

Linhardt’s dreamy expression gives his intentions away. “Exactly.”

Without a second glance, he ambles past them, his mind already dwelling in a place far away. The three former classmates watch his gait from behind as he departs for the double doors and in the blink of an eye, is gone.

“That was…fast. At least Linhardt is not one to dither about what he wants,” Caspar speaks up after a moment’s pause. “Give it a few days and I bet when he returns he will announce that he’d found out who Byleth’s true love is! With a lack of fanfare too I might add. Even so, I am confused about one bit. He’s not doing it to join the knights’ ranks, that I know for certain. Why else could he be taking on this quest for?”

“Weren’t you paying attention, Caspar?” Dorothea nudges him. “Linhardt had a complete change of heart when he heard of Byleth’s name. It’s obvious what that matters to him. The sleeping beauty could be his long-lost sweetheart!”

“His sweetheart? _Oh…_ ” Caspar’s face grows red at not realising it earlier. “That… Wow, that’s a huge deal. What are the odds? I don’t mean to sound like a wet sock… But what do you think will happen if Byleth doesn’t turn out to be who Linhardt is looking for?”

“I can’t say for certain what his reaction will be. I just know it’d be a massive relief to Linhardt if she is, that’s why I’m hoping for the best. Still, there’s something much more terrible that I’m anxious over. What if she is Linhardt’s love, but he isn’t _her_ one true love?” Dorothea unwittingly bites her lips at the bleak scenario. “It would absolutely crush him…”

Sylvain glances sideways at the entrance where Linhardt had left. Their leftover cups of tea sit cold and untouched. Beyond the tall windows, the sky spreads rich hues of pinks and blues, counting another day to the maiden’s deceptively peaceful slumber in a lush bed of roses.

“Whether our lovely couple gets their happily ever after or not,” a smile pulls at Sylvain’s lips as if he knows more than he lets on. “Let’s sit back and watch as the tale unfolds, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> tbh this is mostly just me poking fun at the characters lol how will this tale end I wonder ;; there's probably another part coming but I'm not sure when so this is what I got for now @~@
> 
> I'd love to see more variants of sleeping beauty x byhardt though! maybe linhardt can be the sleeping beauty and byleth the impassive but radiant knight instead ehehe


End file.
